Confusion
by Idan
Summary: Sequel to Clarity. Rigsby finds some things out but wishes he hadn't.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Mentalist, despite wishing really, really hard.

**Author's Note**: Some of the reviewers of Clarity asked for a continuation, but I was determined not to get sucked into another multi chapter until I finish In the Cards. Then my muse threw this at me. I tried to make this a serious writing exercise because I feel like I often give Rigsby short shrift, but somehow it turned into a farce. No nutritional value here! And it will make much more sense if you read Clarity first.

Rigsby made it a rule not to pay much attention to office gossip, but even he could not avoid hearing about the event that dominated conversations around the CBI throughout the first two weeks of March. There were no known witnesses to the spectacle of Lisa Davidson dumping Patrick Jane, but everyone thought Jane's teammates should have the inside scoop. Lisbon might, but Rigsby didn't know anything about what had happened, and he didn't want to. And that's what he told people.

Cho usually stared down anyone who asked. No matter what he thought of Jane's behavior, he was part of the team, and Cho would never talk about his teammates to outsiders. Rigsby had known Cho a long time, and he could tell how funny his friend thought the situation was. But he couldn't figure out why.

Rigsby had gotten used to a certain background level of confusion at work. It was hard to avoid when you were constantly one or two steps behind someone as cunning and devious as Jane. He had learned to just roll with the punches, mostly. He didn't need to be on the same page as Jane to go along with one of his complicated plans; if Cho and Grace were in, so was he, and that was just how it was. The same applied to Lisbon: if she told him to do something, he did it, and he didn't need the backstory. When it came to Jane, he didn't even want the backstory most of the time.

So the specific reasons Lisa had broken up with Jane weren't something Rigsby spent time trying to figure out. Jane was a piece of work, after all; there could be a hundred boneheaded things he'd done that would justify someone giving up on him. Not all women had the superhuman patience and capacity for forgiveness that Lisbon did. If he pulled half the crap Jane did, Grace would not only kick him to the curb, but shoot him while he was lying in the gutter. And she wouldn't miss.

Just like she hadn't missed today, thank God. Jane's plan had gone all to hell when the suspect had twigged to it, nearly killing Lisbon before Grace tagged him in the shoulder, making him drop his weapon. They'd spent the rest of the evening in this otherwise sleepy town finishing up and adding attempted murder to the charges, and afterward they all decided it was too late to start home.

So they were stuck in this little motel on the outskirts of town with a pitiful selection of cable channels and no bar. And he and Grace never spent the night together while out on a case. They were going to be smart this time; Cho knew, and Jane probably had it figured out, but nobody else was going to know until they decided how to handle the long term. And Lisbon was grumpy enough about nearly being killed without adding personnel problems.

Bored out of his mind, Rigsby decided to go get some ice. It was a good excuse for a walk. It turned into an even better one when he discovered the ice machine on the first floor wasn't working, and he went upstairs to check that one out. But as he approached the vending room, he heard a female shriek, followed by the muffled cry, "Get the hell away from me!"

Rigsby sped up, wishing he'd brought his weapon but figuring that his imposing presence would be enough to break up a domestic dispute. He pushed the door open just as another shriek sounded, accompanied by male laughter. "What's going on—" he began, then stopped, gaping at the blond man menacing the petite brunette with...an ice cube.

"Oh, hey, Rigsby," Jane grinned, turning to face him. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

"Yeah, uh, just wanted some ice. The machine on my floor is broken." Rigsby tried to act normal, but it was really difficult when he saw how hard Jane was breathing and how flushed Lisbon was. He did NOT want to know what was going on in here. He should just go. Yeah. Nobody was in trouble here, except maybe Jane, from the way Lisbon was glaring at him. And that was absolutely not something Rigsby needed to intervene in.

Oh crap, was that lip gloss on Jane's cheek? Rigsby looked away hurriedly. He did NOT want to know.

Lisbon took advantage of Jane's moment of distraction to bend down, scoop up a piece of ice from the floor, and slide it down the back of his shirt collar. The consultant let out a yelp and scurried away from her, pointing and threatening, "You're going to regret that!"

"Oh yeah? Who's going to make me?" she retorted, laughing.

What was this, fifth grade? Rigsby started to back toward the door. "I'll just, uh, find another machine."

Jane gave him an appraising look. "Yes, your height would be an unfair advantage in this contest, I'm afraid. Good night, Wayne!"

"See you in the morning," Lisbon added.

"Right. Yeah. Good night." Rigsby pulled the door shut behind him, then leaned on the wall beside it, closing his eyes and trying to unsee several details of the scene he'd just witnessed. Like the fact that Lisbon's shirt was untucked and her hair was a mess. That could just be from the ice fight, though, right? Putting ice down people's shirts was exactly the kind of childish thing Jane did from time to time. It didn't mean anything.

The door was not as heavy as it looked, and he could hear scuffling noises from the other side. Then Lisbon said, "Dammit, Jane, that's exactly why we don't hang out together on cases!"

"But the case is over. And it's Saturday night," Jane whined. "We were working last Saturday night too."

"Which is why I let you come over on Tuesday. And last Friday."

"No, you let me come over last Friday because you thought I'd be depressed about Lisa."

"Which was a complete waste of sympathy, since you claim the whole breakup was your idea."

"Well, it was. The least I could do was let her have the satisfaction of telling the entire CBI she had washed her hands of me. She's also going around telling everyone all my flaws as a boyfriend, which has the added bonus of discouraging anyone else from wanting to take me on."

Only Jane would actively try to make himself repulsive to women, Rigsby thought. He knew he should move away from the door, but things were getting interesting.

"No woman in her right mind would," Lisbon said, but not in a mean way.

Jane laughed. "Lucky for me you haven't been in your right mind for years, then."

There was silence—oh, no, there was silence and _moaning_. They were kissing, right on the other side of the wall. He needed to get out of here before they decided to come out and he had to put the ice bucket on his head and pretend to be a lamppost.

Lisbon said softly, "Jane, you better stop that, or things might get serious."

There was a moment of real silence this time. "I think I'm ready for serious," Jane said hoarsely.

"Now?" Lisbon sounded as shocked as Rigsby felt. "Right now, here, in a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere?"

"What, would you prefer to wait until we get home so you can strew rose petals all over your bedroom?" Jane asked.

"Well I'd at least like some warning so I could shave," she retorted.

That did it. Rigsby took his ice bucket and ran for the stairwell like a bear was after him.

mmm

Jane rolled away from the sunshine slipping around the edges of the curtains and slid an arm across Lisbon's stomach, smiling as she blinked sleepily at him. "Good morning," he said.

"It'll be better once I have some coffee. What time is it?" But her brusque words were softened by her expression, which was warm and open. After a moment, she smiled at him, her cheeks becoming a delightful pink as she reviewed the events of the night.

He'd already glanced at the clock. "Six. And we don't have to check out til noon," he added, giving her a sly grin.

She tried to give him a stern look, but her dilated pupils gave her away. He suppressed a smirk. Last night had been an impulse on his part, brought on by residual panic at nearly losing her and being reminded that he might not have time to take things slowly. Fortunately, he'd had years to contemplate what she might like in bed. And, as always, he'd been right.

After a moment, her forehead crinkled with worry. "How much do you think Rigsby knows?"

Jane waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. He'll do his very best to forget all of it."

"You don't think he'll tell the others?"

"I'm sure he will, but Cho had it figured out almost immediately, and Grace will be more pleased than surprised."

"Really?" Lisbon scrunched her face up as she thought about it, and Jane pondered the question of how a woman who was so artless could be so adorable. "You don't think she'll resent it, after what happened with her and Rigsby?"

"She's a different person now. And no. She just wants to see you happy. What would worry me is them plotting a hideous fate for me if I make you unhappy."

"Would worry you?" she echoed curiously.

"If I hadn't decided to devote the rest of my life to making you happy."

Her deer-in-the-headlights look frustrated him, but he was careful not to let it show. He was going to have to explain it to her after all, he realized. "When I said I wasn't ready for something serious, I didn't mean sex. Well, not just sex. To me, 'serious' implies commitment. As in, I'm here until you throw me out. Possibly even after that, until I'm convinced you really don't want me anymore."

She blinked at him. "We spend one night together and you're talking commitment?"

"You have the causality backward. We spent a night together because I'm ready to commit." He realized this was a foreign concept to her, but he was confident she would come around. They'd been committed to each other non-romantically for years, after all. And now that she'd experienced the joys of sex with someone who could anticipate all her needs and desires, she wasn't going to give it up lightly.

"You're not— This isn't—" she began, then bit her lip.

"No, my dear, this is not a proposal. I won't ask until you're ready to give me the right answer." He slid his fingers into her hair, tracing the long strands until he met skin. Her pulse was rapid, he noted as he touched the side of her neck.

"You're such a control freak," she muttered.

"Takes one to know one," Jane chuckled. From the way she looked at him from under her lashes, he guessed she was wondering how many of her favorite parts of the night they could reenact before breakfast. He would do his absolute best to work in all of them if she'd let him, but he suspected they would waste some of their precious minutes having an unnecessary conversation about discretion and professionalism, two subjects he cared about only a little, and only because she did.

He decided to distract her, nibbling on her earlobe and sliding his hand down to cup one breast. She responded to his caresses with gratifying eagerness, and he congratulated himself on postponing the inevitable lecture. Possibly for quite some time.

mmm

In search of breakfast, Rigsby ran into Cho and Grace at the diner across the street, grabbing the free seat beside Cho at the counter. Grace smiled a greeting from her seat on Cho's other side; she was already halfway through a fruit platter. "Morning," he said to them both, smiling at the waitress as she poured him a cup of coffee. He ordered eggs, bacon, and hash browns, ignoring Grace's frown. He needed real food, dammit. She should be glad he'd gone for the whole wheat toast.

"I ran into the boss and Jane last night," he told Cho. "You notice anything weird about them lately?"

Cho glanced at him and sipped his coffee. "Jane's always weird."

"Well, yeah, but Lisbon isn't."

Grace asked, "What were they doing?"

"They were in the vending room putting ice down each other's shirts."

Cho said, "You're right, that is weird."

Grace said, "They were probably just blowing off steam. You saw how worked up Jane got over his plan not working."

"He should have. Lisbon could've been killed," Cho replied.

Rigsby pondered that. It made sense, he guessed, but it wasn't the only thing bothering him. "They were also kissing. Does that seem right to you? Jane gets dumped by his girlfriend, so he puts the moves on the boss. That's messed up."

Cho was wearing an expression that implied, but in no way was, a smirk. Rigsby looked at Grace, whose eyes were shining with excitement. "Really?" she exclaimed, like it was a good thing.

"I didn't see it, but that's what it sounded like. It's not romantic, Grace. This is Jane we're talking about. He's probably just messing with her. What's going to happen when he gets tired of that?" Rigsby shuddered.

Cho said, "We kill him and make it look like an accident."

Rigsby shook his head. "That'll just make her feel worse. Can't we just, I don't know, beat him up a little?"

Grace said. "I don't think we have to worry about it. He can be a jerk, but I think he does really care."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Grace," Jane said from behind them. They turned, startled, and Jane continued with his usual breezy tone. "There's no need to think up dire punishments. I assure you that our fearless leader has her own ways of keeping me in line."

Rigsby nearly choked on his coffee. Jane patted him on the back and continued, "Now then, I'm not concerned about Rigsby and Van Pelt, since you have no moral high ground to stand on. But my friend Cho here might take it into his head that reporting his suspicions might be in Lisbon's best interests in the long term."

Cho glanced over his shoulder. "Insult me like that again and you'll be telling Lisbon how you tripped, fell, and ended up in the emergency room."

Jane smiled. "I'm glad we understand each other. Now, I need to get Lisbon her breakfast before she decides to hunt and kill it herself. She said being her room service was the least I could do after nearly getting her killed yesterday."

Rigsby was greatly relieved when Cho said, "Tell her we're headed back after we finish breakfast."

"See you at the office," Jane said cheerfully, moving off to get the waitress' attention and place his to-go order.

Rigsby let out a breath. He'd be glad to get back to work and not think about last night anymore.

Ever again.


End file.
